


Nessarose's Secret

by orphan_account



Category: Wicked - Maguire
Genre: Family, Gen, Kid Fic, over 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-20
Updated: 2009-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nessarose never was as helpless as she seemed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nessarose's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this, because while I loved the novel, it bugs me to no end that it assumes people without arms are unbalanced or helpless. That's simply not true!

Melena woke up feeling muzzy and in need of a wash. The air in Quadling Country was stifling hot during the summer months and sweat soaked her even when her feet were dry - she hadn't been able to sleep well for almost two months, now. Frex was still asleep, having stayed up late reading, curled up away from her. Some days, even in sleep, he looked bent over in sorrow.

Yawning, frustrated, she climbed out of bed. It took some effort, as she was now very heavy with child. She ran a brush through her hair once, twice, and made to get some clear water for washing. It was too early to call Nanny from her beauty sleep. She passed Elphie's cot, the leggy green girl curled up in a diminutive parody of her father's pose. Melena pushed back a strand of Elphie's silky black hair before passing on to Nessarose's. To her surprise, Nessa's bed was unoccupied.

Astonished that Nessa could even leave her cot unaided, and suddenly worried, Melena forced herself to move quietly (after all, if it was nothing, there was no reason to worry Nanny) and went into the living room of their small floating house, where the fireplace stood (she thought of nasty pokers, and what they could do to clumsy little girls with no arms), along with their kitchen cabinet (knives) and table, and Frex's small bookshelf of Unionist texts.

Nessa was sitting before the bookcase, her back to Melena, wearing nothing but the shirt and bloomers she slept in. In one foot, she was daintily holding one of the smaller books, and with the other, turning pages as quickly and cleverly as Melena could with her fingers. Her back was straight, her balance perfect. Melena could not suppress a small gasp of wonder, and Nessa quickly dropped the book and twisted around, staring at her mother with a look of horror and guilt.

Melena stared, then smiled, then grinned. 'Why, you little sneaky beast,' she said. 'You've been able to do this all along?'

'Oh, Mommy!' Nessa rose shakily to her feet and rushed over to her, pressing her head against Melena's bulging belly. Melena chuckled as she embraced the girl. Nessa looked up with tearing eyes, and Melena wiped them automatically with the sleeve of her nightshirt. 'You won't tell, will you? It's just that... Nanny never thought I could, and wouldn't let me if I tried, so I didn't tell anyone and did it anyway.'

'I bet it helps that everyone's falling over themselves to help you in every little thing, now that they think you can't do it yourself,' said Melena, but not sharply. 'You might at least be kinder to your sister, who takes care of you so well.'

Nessa's pretty face was soured by a pout. 'I can't tell Elphie, she'd tell everyone.'

'All right, then, pet,' said Melena, who had learned to love her daughters, despite her disappointments. 'It will be our secret - but you will have to do the dishes when your father and sister are out, and Nanny on one of her naps.'

Nessa squeezed her mother and nuzzled her face in her lap to hide the ugly look on her face.

-

Frex held Melena's hand, but she could barely feel his grip anymore. His face swam in and out of focus. There must be a disaster or a death, Melena thought. Or did we finally get it right? He's perfect, isn't he? There was a loud, healthy bawl from the next room, and Nanny's hushing, crooning voice.

There was another wrecking convulsion of pain, and Melena gasped, sobbed. There might yet be a death, she realized. Frex was half out of his chair in half a blink when he saw her convulse, and his hand went for the bottle on the nightstand.

'Wait,' Melena managed through gritted teeth. 'Let me see Elphaba.'

Frex stood by the mother and daughter, looking white and hollow with fear. Melena managed little besides a kiss on her daughter's clammy cheek, and then she called for Nessarose.

'Leave us,' she said to the black-and-white shape that was Frex. She felt almost too exhausted even to focus her eyes. Her thighs were warm with fresh wetness. Nessa leaned on her bedside, sobbing, and as soon as she heard the door close, she felt Nessa's sensitive toes on her head, caressing her, gripping her curls lightly.

'Nessie, darling, you'll be all right, too, won't you?'

'Mommy, no,' Nessa cried, but Melena shushed her.

'You'll help Nanny and Daddy and yes, Elphie too, even if she does break your toys. You're a big girl and you don't need anyone to prop you up. Let them know that, too.' She fell back against her pillow, darkness edging into her vision. There must be a storm somewhere. Her duties over, or as many of her duties she could manage, she fell back into herself, remembering Colwen Grounds, remembering summers in the sun, and the odd flash of panic in the eye of a pig at slaughter.

She wished Turtle Heart was with her.

-

Nessa tripped and hobbled her way from her mother's deathbed, in her shock barely even needing to affect clumsiness. Elphie took her by the waist and supported her, without saying a word, her face angry, even sharper and more pinched than usual. Nanny whirled from the cot of the new baby in a flurry of skirts and dropped down on her arthritic knees next to Nessa. She embraced her, weeping, wetting Nessa's shirt with tears and snot.

The girl's toes twitched, and for a moment she thought of bringing her foot up, of stroking Nanny as she had Mommy. But no, no. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be comforted. She burst into fresh tears. It was her mommy.

'There, popsy,' Nanny said, drying her own tears with one harsh wipe, and dabbing gently at Nessa's. 'Don't cry, poor child. Nanny's still here.'

Mommy's wrong, Nessa thought as Nanny enfolded her in another soft, perfumed embrace. They like me better this way.

-

Nessarose went on to develop that theory. It wasn't that her family liked her better as a cripple; it wasn't that as if she was selfishly demanding their attention, of course not; but look at Elphie! Comfort her and she'll bite, ask for help and she'll work her fingers raw for you. If anything Nessa should encourage her charity. Daddy would barely let her walk for wanting to carry her. And Nanny - for all her complaining, there was nothing left for her in the cold rooms of Colwen Grounds, no more noble issue to look after, no more young ladies to raise. What would she do with herself but waste away? No - Nessarose's disability was her gift to her family. She'd devoted her whole life to goodness, sanctity, charity, and this was no different.

Besides, eating with your foot would be so undignified.


End file.
